


Finding That Moment of Comfort

by MyNameIsRochelleRae



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bad Cooking, Comfort/Angst, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 04:02:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7419016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyNameIsRochelleRae/pseuds/MyNameIsRochelleRae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Bucky watched the world crumble around him, he was alone. He was not alone in picking up the pieces. Steve was always there. Whenever Steve shows signs of his world being destroyed, Bucky is there to bring him back. There were many moments of pain where they wanted to catch a breath. They found that moment to do so with each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finding That Moment of Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted it to be a really happy domestic fluff story. I had the tags all queued and everything, I really did. But at least there is a somewhat happy ending? I really tried hard to make this happy. Oh man. 
> 
> I hope you do enjoy reading it.  
> Do leave me your opinions and constructive criticism about the story for me.

It was always Bucky who suffered from the flashbacks, the shakes and the memory of being alone and controlled relentlessly. It was always Bucky who would jerk awake in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, hands shaking and tears flowing from his eyes. It was always Bucky who leaned on Steve for support.

"I’m with you till the end of the line," Steve would say, rubbing Bucky's back whenever he was comforting the shaking man. Bucky found comfort in Steve's arms.

The fear slowly released its iron grip on the man as he took in Steve's scent and comforting whispers.

It was getting easier to deal with the nightmares, the visions; being able to be the old him. Whenever he fell, Bucky knew Steve was always there with waiting arms. Ready to get him back on his feet and keep him grounded.

Jesus, Bucky was so fucking in love with Steve and Steve returned that love tenfold.

 

Bucky woke up before the sun was fully up but the birds were chirping. The light streaming in from the half closed blinds bathed them in a soft pink glow. Steve looked perfect.

Bucky propped himself up on his elbow and stared at the man he loved. The world knew him as the perfectly engineered Captain America who fought for justice and the American way; Bucky knew the same man as the scrawny little brat who always fought for the right thing even if he was always beaten. Bucky let a soft chuckle escape his lips, careful not to wake the sleeping man.

With a gentle touch, Bucky tucked some of the strands of pink bathed blonde strands to the back of his ear. Bucky remembered moments where he woke with Steve doing the exact same thing to him. The smell of pancakes wafting from the kitchen.

 _I will do that too. He is always making those pancakes, how difficult can it be for me?_ Bucky would soon come to understand just how difficult it would be.

 

Bucky reached out for the new-fangled device Steve called a mobile phone on the bedside table. The screen lit up as he pressed the lock key. It was so strange seeing a device so small but so great. Steve explained that using the mobile phone, he could call and text other people and use the Internet. The Internet is a magical place that answers any questions you have, Steve says. _Well, Internet, show me how to make pancakes._

Settling with the first result, he clicked on it and the page loaded. Bucky still stared at the phone as if it were magic, and he had seen real magic in action before. As it loaded and he marvelled at the phone loading, he quickly wore the apron that Steve always wears while cooking. It smelled of fried chicken and Steve. Taking a hair tie off the bar counter, he tied up his hair into a little ponytail. Red spread through his face as he remembered how Steve would call him cute whenever he did that. Bucky shook away that thought and looked at the screen in front of him.

Recipe:

1 3/4 cup milk

 2 eggs

 1 teaspoon vanilla essence

 2 cups self-raising flour

 1/3 cup caster sugar

The instructions were rather simple; it was to combine all the ingredients together then cook them in a pan. It was easy enough.

Bucky walked around the kitchen opening all the cabinets in search of the ingredients he needed. He roughly remembered Steve talking about needing to go get groceries but figured that there was at least the basics in the cabinets.

Milk and eggs they definitely had. Vanilla essence seemed like an unneeded addition, Bucky decided to skip it. They had no self-rising flour; he scoured the cabinets for other types of flour and found a can of white powder similar to flour. It said baking soda. There was the word baking on the tin and he was satisfied with that. Caster sugar sounded foreign to him and instead opted for normal white sugar. Feeling satisfied with his haul, Bucky gathered everything and dumped them all in a bowl. The mixture was lumpy and Bucky felt like that needed to be solved. With his metal arm, he beat the mixture smooth within a few short minutes.

Turning on the pan, Bucky waited until the pan started to smoke before he melted some butter then poured the mixture in. He waited until the bubbles were all burst then flipped. A gasp of surprise as he saw the side was burnt black. What went wrong, he wondered before quickly placing the pancake on a plate. The other side was also burnt, but just slightly less. Less heat, he mused, turning the fire down before repeating the process. Every single one of the four pancakes Bucky attempted to make just looked so off compared to the fluffy, golden brown pancakes that Steve always served them both. The pancakes also tasted so stomach turning. _I guess cooking is not for me. Let me go get Steve to do it for the both of us._

Approaching the door, Bucky heard the bedsheets shifting quickly. Perhaps, he thought, his lover was awake. A beaming smile popped up at the thought. The shift between happiness to immediate concern would have alarmed anyone else in the room. Steve Rogers, the incredible Captain America, was tossing and turning on the bed. Twitching and curling up in a ball. Pathetic whimpers racked through his body. The figure on the bed was shaking and suffering. Bucky ran to Steve’s side, tears pricked his eyes and his throat tightened shut.

It was always Bucky who suffered from the bad nightmares of times long ago. Of war that destroyed his very soul. It was always Bucky who would cling at the sheets, curled himself into a ball in his sleep, trying to protect himself from the terror. It was always Bucky who needed Steve. Bucky swallowed hard, trying to push the images of the atrocities that he had done back down. Bucky had to be the strong one now, because this time, it was Steve who was suffering. This time, it was Steve who was remembering all the death caused by his hand; every shot and every hit. This time, it was Steve who was remembering the bleak moments of war, of fighting crime. This time, it was Steve who needed to lean on Bucky for support.

Easing himself into the bed behind Steve, Bucky held Steve in his arms. Steve struggled; trying to get out of what he must have felt was a cage. Bucky reached for Steve’s hand and rubbed his thumb gently. Bucky always did that to calm Steve. Slowly, Steve relaxed into Bucky’s arms. Bucky whispered about how golden Steve’s hair was, how smooth his fingertips were when they held him; about the love they shared unconditionally. Eventually, Steve settled, muscles no longer tense.

As Bucky counted the breaths that Steve took in, counted every heartbeat and counted every blessing, Steve stirred once more. Roused from his slumber, Steve turned to face Bucky. His eyes were full of the same pain that resonated within Bucky. They were both too aware of that pain. There were no words to describe it, and there was no need to. Steve buried himself into Bucky’s arms. He found comfort in Bucky's embrace. Bucky felt wetness spread on his shirt where Steve’s face was. Bucky rubbed Steve’s back tenderly as he whispered words of solace. Steve muttered a muted apology about breaking down. Not your fault, Bucky said aloud, to Steve and to himself.

“I’m with you till the end of the line,” Bucky whispered, it was for the both of them. 

**Author's Note:**

> I really love the chemistry that Bucky and Steve have with each other and I would love to see it develop even further with the next movie! For now, I'll just make little stories to feed the little Stucky void in my heart.
> 
> Also, the recipe is from http://www.taste.com.au/recipes/38098/easy+pancake+recipe
> 
> Thank you for reading! ♥  
> Forgive me if there are any spelling/grammar errors, do leave comments and constructive criticism for me!  
> Please let me know if you like what you're reading by leaving me a kudos and a comment!


End file.
